Demons, Part 2
by Princepen
Summary: Part 2 of continuing story re-imagining first mission of STNG.
1. Chapter 1

**Demons, Part 2, Chapter 1**

**Uninhabited Andorian Moon**

Each time the dreadnought ship passed overhead all sound and sense were drowned out. The first few times the children heard the thrumming power of the Andorian ship nearby, they felt the vibration in their ears, and even their insides shook. But later on when the ship returned repeatedly and hovered threateningly above the terrain, although the terror never really dissipated, a strange familiarity began to settle in.

When he was still alive, their leader Ra'Val had shown the children and other adults how to master their emotions, in particular, fear. Now that Ra'Val and the others were dead, only a small group of children remained. Ja'nel and T'Kal would prepare the others and they would sit in a wide circle, hands linked together, eyes shut. They would travel back in time to a place where they were safe, where the winds blowing the sands of their home world and the sounds of insects buzzing, were the only sounds they could hear. One time, Ja'nel felt compelled to open his eyes. Everyone was still, eyes shut in silent meditation; all except for Thar. Thar's eyes were black, wide open and staring into the darkness. His mouth hung open and emitted a strange white light. Frightened, Ja'Nel shut his eyes tightly. After the ship left the moon's surface, they all slept.

The next morning Ja'Nel found Thar working on fixing their vessel. Thar gave him a strange look. Soon they would be able to leave, but Ja'Nel knew they would all perhaps be at greater risk among the stars.

* * *

It was 2300 hours and a few hours earlier, the lights on the bridge had begun to dim as the "day" came to a close. It was necessary, Data knew, for human beings to keep as close as possible to the circadian rhythms on Earth during space travel. Artificial light attempted to replicate the properties of natural light as much as possible, and eventually the day turned into night, just as it did on Earth. Without some respect for these natural biological processes humans could become both mentally and physically ill. On previous assignments before the Enterprise, Data had sometimes experienced the phenomenon of "grumpiness" which was often associated with lack of sleep. Data, however, had no physical need for sleep. At times when he was alone, he would slow the pace of his operating systems to properly diagnose them. To a human, these processes would appear too fast to comprehend, but during these periods Data was, in every practical sense, resting.

"Captain, we are approximately six hours away from the Andor system," advised Data. He turned to look at Captain Picard, who, aside from an ensign standing at tactical, was the only one left on the bridge. "If you would like to rest, Captain, I am quite capable of monitoring and maintaining bridge functions while you are sleeping."

Picard yawned. "Very well, Data. Perhaps I could use some sleep." Picard rose up and turned to leave the bridge. He paused at the turbo list. "Please make the appropriate log entries, Commander," he added.

"Yes, sir. Sweet dreams, sir," Data added.

Picard raised an eyebrow at that. "How very odd," he murmured as the turbo lift doors shut with a hiss.

* * *

Geordi LaForge had seen the kid twice since he'd come aboard. The first time, Geordi had seen him peering into Engineering. The boy had seemed about to walk right in, until Chief Argyle had shooed the boy away, not too gently. Now, the teenager was tapping at the computer terminal, pausing every now and then to glance furtively around him. Geordi had ended his shift for the day and decided to approach him. "Hey kid," he said in a friendly tone. The teen turned around abruptly, and put his hands in his pants' pockets as though he'd been caught doing something more sinister than studying a computer console.

"Hi," said the kid, sheepishly.

"I'm Geordi," said LaForge.

"Wes," said the kid, straightening, and trying to portray an air of confidence. He glanced at Geordi's uniform and smiled. Now that Geordi was standing "You're a command officer," he commented, rather than asked. "Are you coming from the bridge?"

"Yeah," said Geordi. "What were you doing a few minutes ago?" He said nodding toward the wall terminal. His visor indicated Wes' temperature was rising slightly, perhaps from embarrassment.

Wes shrugged. "I was trying to see if the computer system here is comparable to the master computer in Starfleet Medical. That system had some bugs that I was able to fix, and I'm just wondering if I could do the same here."

Geordi's forehead crinkled with amused astonishment. "Well, I'd be really impressed to see what you're capable of, Wes. But I'm not sure the Captain would be too thrilled with you tinkering with the ship's operating systems," he warned.

Wesley put his head down, and scuffed his foot on the carpet, suddenly seeming a bit sullen. "What's he like?"

"Who? The Captain?" Geordi frowned, not sure how honest he should be. "Uh, well, he's…strict…" he trailed off. The truth was, he knew almost nothing about Captain Picard, and anyway, he wasn't sure what information the kid was really looking for. "Maybe you should meet him and see for yourself," said Geordi, encouragingly.

"Could you get me on to the bridge?" Wesley said hopefully. "My Mom said it wouldn't be a good idea, but…."

"Your Mom?"

"Dr. Crusher," said Wes.

Geordi frowned. If the Chief Medical Officer didn't think it was a good idea for her son to be on the bridge, how the hell did this kid think Geordi could help him pull it off? He thought for a moment. "Why don't you finish your diagnostic of the ship's computer, and if you come up with any suggestions for improving it…"

"You'll get me on to the bridge?" The teenager's excitement was contagious.

Laforge smiled broadly. "Yeah, I'll do my best," he promised, not really sure what he was getting himself into.

* * *

Beverly Crusher sat on the edge of her bed still ruminating about the day's events. Her son had just burst into their quarters brimming with exuberance and had rattled off his assessment of the ship's computer and all of the ways it could be made more efficient. She'd caught only parts of it, then had made him eat some dinner, after finding out he'd gone nearly the whole day without consuming a thing. Wesley was brilliant, and yet she had to remind him to eat some days. It was as though he was so focused on his projects that he forgot about the basic necessities.

After eating a bowl of cereal, he'd double-checked his homework, and then finally had retreated into his bedroom, and now all was quiet. She smiled to herself. It made her heart swell to know that her son so happy to be here. Her smile faded ever so slightly, when she remembered that they'd only just begun this journey. Anything could happen, really.

She knew Wesley was excited to see Captain Picard again, but for various reasons, it just hadn't happened yet. On the one hand, he was not exactly accessible. He was almost always busy with something ship-related, to the extent that it wasn't easy to interrupt him. Everyone had been so busy hurrying to prepare for a mission that was already underway. She certainly was no exception, and her last shift had been a long one.

Just to get it over with, she had considered marching her son right to the Captain's quarters, but thought better of it. Jean-Luc tended to be standoffish at first, and if he felt intruded upon, he tended to become even more remote. She'd been in that position before; not knowing if he was even interested in her company as an acquaintance, much less as a friend; and she wasn't interested repeating the old awkward patterns of the past. She wanted the ability to make a new start on the Enterprise. Certainly, it would be easier if she and Jean-Luc could develop a friendship. She admitted to herself for the first time as she sat in the dark that she desperately wanted her son to know him, and wanted Jean-Luc to benefit from having Wesley in his life.

What she and Jean-Luc had experienced years ago had been a friendship through their connection to her husband Jack, and when Jack had died, the basis of her relationship with Picard had been exposed as extremely fragile. Apparently it had been so very fragile that neither of them had felt the need to cultivate or save the friendship, and they had essentially gone their separate ways following Jack's death.

She had been extremely angry after Jack had died. No one had ever truly explained to Beverly what had caused Jack's death. And of the few officers who had been present when Jack died, Beverly had expected that Jean-Luc would tell her what had happened. She thought this was a reasonable expectation. Surely his own grief would not overshadow his ability to show her basic kindness. But she had been wrong, and he had let her down. Looking back, perhaps she understood, at least partially, why he had been so closed to her then. And yet, he'd said very little, and what he had told her had been of no help to her. Maybe she expected he would be able to say something to protect her from the years of pain that would follow.

She had written to him after Jack's funeral to address some of the things she'd said to him the day of the funeral. She had reached out to him for his friendship, asked him to drop some of the barriers she had never been able to penetrate. To her dismay and confusion, he had failed to respond to her letter. In the years that followed, she had tried not to hold on to her bitterness toward Jean-Luc, but a substantial piece of her truly did feel abandoned.

During the first few years, the more she thought about his absence, the more she cursed her own foolishness, and wondered if it was actually him that she even missed. Did she miss Picard, or was he just a potential surrogate for Jack? Did she somehow wish that he could have been a father to Wesley? The very concept usually made her feel a sense of shame but other times she felt freed by these thoughts. The idea that it was Jack's presence that she missed, rather than Picard, was somehow a comfort to her, but she knew it was more complicated than that.

She had been attracted to Picard from the time they had met, all those years ago. It was a mutual attraction which they had both attempted to conceal from each other and from Jack, with mixed results. So many things became unspoken among the three of them that by the time Jack died, perhaps she should not have been surprised that secrets continued to be kept. But even more than that, she knew that Jean-Luc cared for her. This made it all the more confusing and hurtful when he completely disappeared from her life.

Adjusting her nightgown, she lay down and pulled the covers up to her chin in an attempt to bring herself some comfort. She knew that if she was to get any sleep at all, she would need to clear her mind of these troubling thoughts. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

It was the unmistakable smell of burnt flesh. The realization that it was not just T'Pel's flesh, but also his own that was burning, made him nauseous. It did not matter. As soon as he reached the edge of the ancient room and placed T'Pel on the mossy ground, he would turn and the world would slow down as it did every time he relived this event in a dream. He would see his friend slip, the floor beneath him crack, and a glowing orb of energy would lance into Jack, nearly splitting his body in two. Picard would hear himself scream, and he would run, leap, do what he could to reach Jack, but it was never any good. He was never fast enough…never fast enough.

His breathing shallow and ragged, Picard sat up in his bed, a scream ready to emerge as usual, until his body and mind both reconciled with the fact that he was present in the here and now, not ten years ago. A stinging sweat hung on his back where years ago his skin had literally been on fire, and a cold chill weighed down his lungs. He coughed, and grabbed for a glass of water next to his bed. His hand shook as he brought it to his lips, and he silently told his body to calm down as the tepid water slid down his throat.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he breathed deeply and cursed his brain for taking him once again into a place and time where he was powerless. What was the point of reliving such a horrible moment, over and over again? He hadn't had a dream quite so vivid in more than a year it seemed, and he rationalized it was probably due to seeing Beverly and T'Pel again. It was only natural he supposed, that seeing people from his past should resurrect these memories. He glanced at a clock nearby, and noted that the Enterprise was due to arrive in the Andor system within the hour. Even though he was not due on shift for another few hours, he had no intention of going back to sleep at this point. Shrugging off the last traces of the dream, he stood and stretched before heading for the shower.

* * *

Commander William T. Riker stepped onto the bridge at 0700 hours and was only slightly surprised to see Data sitting in the Captain's chair. The lights had just been adjusted to reflect that it was now morning. The android, sitting quite still and alone on the bridge, appeared for a moment to be a strange pale hued king surveying his domain. "Good morning, Commander," Riker said to Data as he walked down the ramp, hand lightly touching the railing.

He was still growing used to Data's presence, and although others had already begun referring to the android somewhat casually as "Data", Riker felt he needed to afford Data the proper respect by calling him by his rank, until he grew more personally comfortable with serving with him. Riker had no personal reservations about serving with an artificial life form. He'd worked with plenty of computers after all. But Data was not just a computer, he was something much more complicated and Riker bet, more interesting.

"Good morning, Commander Riker," said Data, standing up. "We have entered the Andor system, sir." Data moved aside, to allow Riker to sit, but Riker was suddenly preoccupied with something on the view screen. It appeared tiny, but Riker knew better.

"Magnify," said Riker, and Data walked over to tap his panel at ops. Suddenly the screen showed an image of a grey tube-like ship. And it was doing something ships really should not do—spinning. It soon became clear why the ship was spinning out of control, for at that moment, a shot of green energy ricocheted off the bow of the small cargo ship. A huge battle cruiser loomed just 2000 meters away and was closing in.

"Red alert," shouted Riker. "Captain to the bridge!"

*****************************************************************************************8


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Battle stations," Picard called out, striding onto the bridge. He moved quickly to the command center. "Sickbay, prepare for casualties," he snapped, flipping up the right hand panel on his command chair. He glanced at the view screen and then back at the control panel on the chair's arm. "Distance?"

"One thousand meters and closing, sir," responded LaForge at the helm.

"Sensors show no communications array on the freighter, sir. If there is a crew aboard the freighter, they are incapable of communicating with us, Captain," reported Data.

"Hail the Andorian ship," ordered Picard. He immediately heard the chirp of the communications array attempting to open a connection.

"The Andorian ship is unresponsive, Captain," said Yar from behind him at tactical.

"Are there any life signs aboard the cargo freighter?" asked Riker, putting a hand on the back of Data's chair.

"Yes, sir," said Data. "Sensors show eight humanoid life forms, sir."

"The children," Troi gasped. Picard glanced at her somewhat alarmed, and not sure if she was guessing or if she knew for certain the Vulcan children were aboard. Troi did not look at him, but her eyes remained wide and staring at the view screen. He resisted the urge to tell her to snap out of it.

"Get us a confirmation on the make of the freighter," Picard demanded.

"It is a Vulcan 1100 class civilian shipping freighter, sir," said Yar, her voice tense.

That was enough of a confirmation that the Vulcan children were in fact aboard the injured freighter. Picard pushed himself up from his chair and walked toward the view screen. "What is the shield strength on that freighter?"

"Forty percent of what it should be, sir," said Yar, leaning over her station. "And we're talking about a commercial shipping freighter, Captain. No defensive weaponry to speak of."

"That hull won't take another direct hit," said Riker, the anxiety evident in his voice. What the hell was Picard waiting for?

Picard rubbed his chin. He turned to Yar, the question obvious in his expression.

"Still no response to our hails, sir," she said.

He turned back to the view screen. He could feel Commander Riker's eyes glaring into the back of his head. Perhaps Riker thought he would spur Picard into action somehow by staring daggers at him. Well, Picard was unmoved. Troi watched him closely. He appeared to be calculating the odds of some potential move in his head.

"The Andorian ship is powering up its weapons, Captain," warned Data.

Picard folded his hands behind his back. "Shields up. Heading: fifty-three mark two, full impulse." Riker swiveled to look at Picard. That heading would bring them nose to nose with the Andorian vessel. While Riker admired the bold move, he didn't see how it would solve the problem, which was that they had no way yet to rescue the children.

"Andorian weapons are powering back down, sir," Yar announced, as the Enterprise slid smoothly between the Andorian ship and the tiny spinning freighter.

"Good, said Picard," stone-faced. "I suppose we have their attention now, don't we Riker?" he said, without turning to look at his second in command.

"Yes, sir," said Riker, flatly. "Captain, I recommend we drop our shields and try beaming the children aboard now that we're close enough," said Will. "It may be our only chance to save them."

Picard turned and fixed Riker with an icy stare. "I thought we all understood the freighter's shields are currently activated," he said slowly as if he suspected Riker had lost his mind.

Riker felt his face grow hot under Picard's severe gaze. He averted his eyes and nodded stiffly. "Sir," he said simply.

"Sir, the freighter's shields _are_ low," LaForge piped up in an attempt to be helpful. "We could try synchronizing our transport with the ship's shield frequency—" LaForge jumped slightly and stopped talking, as Picard laid a heavy hand on the back of his seat at the helm.

"Lt. LaForge, have you ever seen what transporting through a shield does to a humanoid body?" Somehow the air became even thicker with tension at that moment.

LaForge swallowed, and felt sure everyone heard it. "No, sir," he admitted.

"Well, I have," said Picard. "And Starfleet ordered me to bring these children back safe, not dead," he snapped. Turning back to face the rest of the crew he nodded as if coming to a final decision.

"Prepare for emergency saucer separation in three minutes," the Captain said coolly. Riker's forehead creased in surprise, but he acknowledged the order immediately and stepped to a station along the wall to begin typing in code.

"Commander Data, you will coordinate the evacuation of all civilians from the star drive section, and take command of the saucer section from the main bridge. The rest of you will accompany me on the battle bridge," Picard said to the rest of the bridge crew. "In exactly three minutes," he clarified.

Data stood immediately and moved to a wall station to begin evacuation procedures. The ship's computer voice began a countdown.

* * *

"Captain, the Andorians are hailing us, sir," Yar said, a note of relief in her voice.

Riker made a signal to Data to mute the ship's countdown on the bridge.

"On screen," said Picard.

The bright blue visage of the Andorian commanding officer suddenly filled the screen. Picard's first impression was that she was strikingly beautiful. His second impression was that her grey antennae were gyrating in a highly agitated manner, which was never a good sign for an Andorian. No doubt, if Picard had had antennae himself, they would have been gyrating off the scale as well.

"Captain Picard, of the Starship _Enterprise_," the Andorian said in a deceptively soft voice. "We were told your ship would arrive in our system. I am Commander Zatha of the Battleship_ Ishran_. While I am honored to meet you, Captain, I am not at all pleased to meet you under these circumstances. You are interfering in matters which are none of your concern," she said with a polite coldness typical of Andorians.

"Commander Zatha," said Picard with a slight bow by way of greeting. "The honor is mine. However, I must correct you. The welfare of the children in that vessel is of paramount concern to me and my crew. Please, cease your hostilities against the freighter."

Zatha's expression was unyielding. "Captain, my ship may be large, but its maneuverability is quite impressive. You will not be able to continue to shield the freighter from our weapons systems."

Picard held up his hands as if in an attempt to physically prevent her from carrying out her plans. "Commander Zatha, what are your concerns? I assure you that we can discuss them after we have brought those children safely aboard the _Enterprise_."

"If I have to fire on your ship, Captain, I will."

"Commander, I do believe you would. But you must see that further violence is unnecessary—"

"I will excuse your ignorance, Captain Picard. But these _children _you refer to murdered over one hundred of our colonists."

Picard kept the shock from his expression. "Surely you refer to the adults who are now deceased by all reports."

"Your reports may differ from ours, Captain. And I am not authorized to share my reports with Starfleet. The fact remains, they must pay for their crimes."

"Even if you believe that to be the case," protested Picard. "They should be given a fair trial before they are punished-"

The screen went black as the Andorians abruptly cut the connection. Picard signaled to the crew to proceed to the battle bridge on deck eight. Data moved to the command chair, as auxiliary crew arrived in the turbo lift to replace the main bridge crew.

* * *

Elsewhere on the ship, the majority of civilians and Starfleet officers alike, moved for the most part in an orderly fashion into the saucer section. There was no panic to speak of, and for the most part the civilians seemed to think it was a drill, not a real event.

Wesley Crusher, who was on a field trip in Main Engineering with his advanced propulsion class, paused to watch Lt. Worf direct civilians to the upper levels and into the saucer section. He admired how professional Worf appeared to be, even though he doubted Worf enjoyed any duties involving civilians. Wes had only seen a Klingon individual once before, and they hadn't been a Starfleet officer. Instinctively he ducked out of sight, so that Worf would not see him watching. His mother had told him once that Klingons did not appreciate being stared at. He watched as Worf all but pushed the last few civilians into a utility hatch. Turning to see where his classmates were, he suddenly realized that he was alone. He also realized that the computer had stopped her countdown and all was very silent on the engineering level. He imagined only a small skeleton crew remained.

"Oh great," thought Wesley, not quite concerned yet, but slightly annoyed with himself. He headed for a turbo lift, and thought the best idea at this point would be to get back to his classroom. "Deck 4," he said.

"This turbo lift is unable to travel beyond Deck 8," explained the ship's computer gently.

"Um, why?" Unfortunately for him he knew the answer before the computer told him. The saucer was no longer attached to the saucer section, which meant Deck 8 was now the battle bridge, and essentially the top of the star drive section. He couldn't even get to his mother at this point, since she was most likely in the main sickbay in the saucer section.

"The ship has completed separation procedures, and the turbo lift can only travel to Deck 8," explained the computer, just as gently as before, in answer to his question. It was at that moment that he had another idea.

* * *

Before the separation, Picard had taken Data aside and spoken to him quietly. He wanted to make sure Data understood clearly what Picard expected him to do. Data nodded, and waited as Picard and the other officers stepped off of the bridge before sitting down. As Captain Picard had instructed, Data would wait until the appropriate time to act.

* * *

The Enterprise battle bridge was more familiar to Picard than the main bridge, even though he'd never set foot on it until now. The dark and dingy ambiance reminded him of just about every other ship he had served on, in contrast to the bright, sleek lines of the rest of the Enterprise. Riker looked at him as if to say "now what?" Picard knew the lack of patience Riker displayed was simply his concern for the success of their mission, but it still annoyed him at that moment.

Yar suddenly shouted, "Andorian ship is moving out of range, sir. It is positioning itself to fire again on the freighter."

"Pursue the Andorians," ordered Picard. "Keep us between that battle cruiser and the freighter at all costs."

"Aye sir," said LaForge. Sweat stood out on the young man's brow, as he maneuvered the ship as directed.

"We're taking fire," said Yar in a tone of voice that indicated she would very much like to fire back.

"Evasive maneuvers, but keep us in front of the freighter," ordered Riker. Riker looked at Picard. "Sir, our shields won't be able to hold on forever," he warned.

"Now, Data," said Picard opening a channel to the saucer section. The saucer section suddenly moved into position behind the freighter and a cool blue beam was issued from the saucer section, attaching itself to the small freighter. The tractor beam brought the Vulcan freighter as close to the Enterprise hull as possible, making it difficult to see. The saucer section shot away at full impulse bringing it outside of the Andorian weapon range.

"Andorians are firing directly on us, Captain," said Yar. "Andorians firing photon torpedoes."

"Fire countermeasures," barked Picard. The ship shook with a near hit, and he staggered slightly, and gripped a rail. Feeling somewhat certain that the saucer section and the freighter were now a safe distance away, he felt more inclined to disable the Andorian ship, if necessary.

"Shields at sixty percent, Captain," reported Yar. "They're continuing fire, sir," she added almost immediately.

"Fire at will," he ordered.

Amidst the jarring sensation of the battle and the shouts of the officers around him, Picard did not hear the swish of the turbo lift doors behind him.

Riker did notice the visitor, however. "Mr. Crusher…what the hell are you doing—"

Picard's head whipped around at the sound of Riker's shouting. There, looking both frightened and elated at the same time, if such a thing were even possible, was Wesley Crusher. Picard recognized the boy immediately. Not by what he had looked like ten years ago, but by the resemblance he bore now to both Jack and Beverly.

At that moment, a torpedo hit, and a secondary explosion rocked the bridge. Smoke poured from the wall behind Lt. Yar, who predictably did not move from her post. Two ensigns rushed to put the fire out, and quickly subdued it, but smoke continued to billow forth and fill the air on the bridge with an acrid stench.

"Wesley?" Picard ran to grab the stunned teenager by the shoulders, and guided him back down to the command center. He sat Wesley down in his command chair. "Now stay here and don't move," he said gruffly, still crouching. The boy looked at him with large eyes that seemed to convey both fear and fascination. If the boy's eyes seemed to be on the verge of tears, Picard reasoned it was likely the smoke and nothing more than that. Turning away to face the view screen, he kept his right hand firmly on Wesley's shoulder.

"Captain, they're leaving," exclaimed Geordi. Sure enough, the Andorian ship had turned and was slowly retreating. He turned and glanced quickly at Wesley Crusher. A small part of Geordi wanted to applaud the kid for his ingenuity in getting to the bridge, but he decided it would be better for his career, and possibly his personal safety, to return his attention to the helm.

Data's serene voice came through the communications link. "Captain Picard, I am pleased to report that the Vulcan children have been beamed aboard. We were able to deactivate the shield generator on the freighter, once we had control of the vessel. Doctor Crusher is currently administering to the children's medical needs. She reports that the children are malnourished, and some bear wounds, but she is hopeful about their prognosis, sir."

Picard nodded to no one in particular. "Thank you and well done, Data." Picard continued to watch the Andorian ship retreat, and felt very sure that Starfleet Command would not appreciate his choice of weapons over diplomacy. The children were physically safe for the moment, but at what cost to the greater peace?


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Two, Chapter 3**

"I need more clotting agent," shouted Beverly Crusher to a nearby nurse. The nurse spun around and grabbed the hypo spray the Doctor had requested. Dr. Crusher pressed a piece of gauze against a little boy's forehead with one hand and grabbed the hypo from the passing nurse with the other. The gauze quickly filled with dark green blood. The boy had sustained a head wound during the Andorian attack, and he was losing blood faster than he should be. But Crusher knew that the low gravity of the freighter combined with the quick change in pressure after beaming aboard the _Enterprise_ was to blame for that. Soon enough she brought the swelling and bleeding under control.

She touched the boy's hand lightly, and was struck by the amount of heat he was projecting. Vulcans had higher average body temperatures than humans, a simple fact she reminded herself. She sat next to him and took in his fine features. He appeared to be a boy of about ten earth years. The boy remained silent, as she washed his face gently with a cool damp cloth. He was a Vulcan, surely, but, she still hardly expected a child to be so stoic in the face of such frightening events. He's probably in shock, she thought to herself. "It's going to be alright," she said softly to him and stroked his arm. "What is your name?" she asked, trying to get him to make eye contact.

"Thar," he said. She blinked, for his voice held more confidence than most adult men she had encountered. "I am the mechanic," he said, simply stating a fact.

Crusher began to feel strangely unsettled as he looked directly into his opaque eyes, which suddenly seemed to be endless in their depth. She motioned for a nurse to come and take over. "This patient is stabilized," she said. Touching the boy's shoulder again lightly, she turned away to turn her attention to treating the other children.

* * *

Crusher and her staff continued to busy themselves with stabilizing the other children, and within the hour she was satisfied that all eight were going to survive. Remarkably these children had survived an apparent massacre, had escaped in a freighter to a stark moon, and had taken flight again only to be overtaken by an enormous battle cruiser which had fired on them again and again. It was amazing they had made it out alive with relatively minor bruises and lacerations.

"If the Enterprise had not intervened these children would have died." Crusher spun around to find Counselor Troi standing behind her. In a way Troi had finished her own thoughts, but then, perhaps Troi already knew that.

Beverly smiled wanly. "Yes," she agreed. "It seems we were in the right place at the right time."

"The Captain made a quick decision. And it was the right one," said Troi, stepping closer to Beverly.

"Yes, well, he certainly knows what he's doing," said Crusher, dismantling some hypo sprays and packing them away in a case. She wiped the damp hair out of her eyes in irritation.

"I think that was made abundantly clear to everyone on this ship today," said Troi. "He has an unusual ability to exude confidence in the face of very difficult odds," she added.

Crusher thought of a few things to say in response, but instead just nodded her agreement and continued cleaning up the triage area. She knew what the Counselor was doing, and she wasn't interested in playing along. It was an old counseling trick, to check in with the crew and see how they were responding in the wake of a traumatic event. Crusher, being a doctor, was used to handling trauma, so she hoped the counselor would move along to the next ornery crew member and stop bothering her.

She glanced back at Troi long enough to see that the counselor had an amused expression fixed upon her face. In spite of herself, Crusher smiled back at Troi, and was about to give in and crack a joke, when she suddenly was distracted by footsteps entering her sickbay. They both turned at the sound.

* * *

"Wesley! What on Earth -?" There stood her son, accompanied by Captain Picard. Both seemed to be unharmed, but both were covered in a layer of black and grey soot. The smell of smoke and a small cloud of dust followed behind them.

Picard had a hand on Wesley's back and gave him a light shove towards Crusher. "Doctor, may I present your son," said Picard in a voice that was less than pleased. Wesley coughed by way of greeting. "I happened to notice him sneaking onto my bridge in the middle of battle…"

"Was there a fire? Are you hurt?" The question was actually for both of them but both Jean-Luc and Wesley stared back at her as though she were speaking another language. Sighing, Beverly grabbed Wesley and sat him down on a bio bed. While she ran a scanner over her son, she talked to Picard. "Are you injured, Captain?"

"No, of course not," he snapped. "I merely wanted to inform you that your son—"

"My s_on_ only wanted to meet you Captain," she snapped back. "It has been ten years after all," she added pointedly.

"Touché," thought Picard. He looked down at his feet and then back up at her again, hands draped behind his back. "Of course, you are right, Doctor," he said aloud. "Young men sometimes make irrational decisions. I'm sure it won't happen again, will it Mr. Crusher?"

"No, sir," Wesley said weakly. Crusher squeezed his hand, but he appeared terrified of the Captain. Beverly resisted the urge to fold her son into her arms and protect him, but she knew he was already mortified. And the truth was, he was growing up, and would have to learn to talk to Jean-Luc on a regular basis without curling into a terrified ball.

Wesley was mainly embarrassed to be seen holding his mother's hand, and he jerked his hand away from hers self-consciously. "Mom, I'm okay," he protested. This was not the way Wesley had wanted to meet Captain Picard. He would have rather impressed the Captain with his knowledge of warp technology or have been of some other use to the Captain, instead of making problems.

He took a deep breath and stood up straight. "Sir, I am very sorry. It won't happen again," he assured the Captain, doing his best to maintain eye contact.

Picard stared at Wesley for a few more moments. Clearly the boy understood he should not have just appeared on the bridge. Picard felt a pang of regret as he looked at this skinny teenage version of Jack, standing nearly at attention, clearly in an effort to apologize. Picard cursed himself silently. He didn't intend to inspire apprehension in his new crew; surely least of all in this bright young man, to whom he was connected by the most tragic event of both their lives.

Picard held out his hand to Wesley. "Wesley, I accept your apology," he said as gently as he could manage. Wesley grasped his hand and shook it, with a look of plain relief. "Once we've finished our mission in this sector and are out of danger, I will arrange for you to come and see the bridge for a proper tour. How does that sound?"

"Great! I mean, I would be honored to see the bridge, Captain," he corrected himself.

Picard glanced at Beverly. "What a polite son you have raised, Doctor," he remarked with a small smile. He half expected a sarcastic retort from her, but instead she flushed and a very sincere expression of pride crossed her face. He held her gaze for a moment longer.

Wesley looked at his mother and then back at the Captain, and for some reason at that moment it hit him that he was seeing them together for the first time since the day of his father's funeral. He recalled staring out the window long after Picard had walked away and disappeared into the fog, it seemed. He had been so young, and yet sometimes it seemed like his father had just died. Other times he had to look at a holo image of his father just to remember what he looked like. Seeing his mother with Captain Picard now made him feel very strange as if he was missing something—something they didn't necessarily want him to know about. The more he thought about it, the more he began to feel embarrassed.

"Um, Mom, since I already missed the rest of school, is it okay if I just go back to our quarters?"

Crusher looked at him. "Of course," she said. "I'll see you later, and we can talk then about your little excursion on the bridge…alright?"

"Okay," he reluctantly agreed, and turned to leave. "Goodbye, Captain," he said on his way out the door.

"Wesley," said Picard with a curt nod.

* * *

"How are they?" Picard asked Counselor Troi quietly.

"Doctor Crusher tells me they are resting for the moment Captain," said Troi.

"Captain, I wish to speak to the Redeemer children now."

Picard turned at the sound of T'Pel's serene, yet assertive voice. He had been in Sickbay talking with Troi in hushed tones about the recently rescued children. Doctor Crusher had disappeared into her office to finish writing her reports. Troi indicated that she had spoken already with two children whom she referred to as "the leaders". They were each approximately twelve earth years old, named T'Kal and Ja'Nel, one female and one male respectively. They, according to Troi, were incredibly strong mentally and she had trouble discerning some thoughts they kept hidden. One thing was certain, she had told him: they were keeping a mutual secret, one they considered vital to their very survival.

He nodded at T'Pel. "Understood," he said. "I was about to speak with them myself." He paused and looked at her more closely. "You weren't injured during the Andorian attack, were you?"

T'Pel shook her head. "No, Captain, I am quite well."

"Good. Counselor, do you have any suggestions for me before I speak to these children?"

Troi smiled with understanding. Picard's discomfort at the prospect of speaking to children about anything, much less about difficult subjects, was obvious. "As long as you remember that first and foremost they are children, Captain, you will be fine. They have been through several traumatic incidents and have literally faced and avoided death at least twice. Given their ages and the circumstances, we cannot expect them to tell us everything we need to know."

"Thank you, Counselor," said Picard. He nodded to T'Pel and they left Troi's side.

* * *

"Hold please," called out Riker, as he saw Data step efficiently into a turbo lift. Data's head peeked around the door of the lift, and the door halted and then re-opened fully. Riker quickly ducked in and then leaned his large frame against the wall. "Mr. Data, that was some impressive work you did today with the saucer," he offered.

Data's lips thinned to a flat line and his head tilted as if he were listening carefully for something only he could perceive. "Thank you, Commander Riker. I found the entire event quite stimulating."

Riker broke into a slow grin. "Stimulating? What an interesting choice of words, Mr. Data. Care to elaborate?"

Data paused. Typically humans did not ask him to elaborate. Instead, they often specifically asked him to "keep it short", or to "spare us the details", or even to "wrap it up, please". Data was therefore pleased at the invitation to furnish a complete explanation.

"During our encounter with the Andorians I observed that many of the Captain's tactics, including the separation of the saucer section seemed to be based on intangible factors. It is difficult for me to comprehend how Captain Picard knew that he would need to separate the saucer section prior to speaking with the Andorian Commander."

"He anticipated, Commander," said Riker. "He knew the Andorians have a reputation for adherence to duty, and that they also have a strong sense of justice. In this situation, they believed that exacting justice required the destruction of the Vulcan vessel. So the Captain knew he would have to try to reason with them, but that talking was not likely to dissuade them from attacking the Vulcan ship. He also knew that unless the Enterprise was separated, the civilians on board would be at risk, and that two ships instead of one would provide a greater distraction for the Andorians. Once you picked up the freighter with the saucer and moved out of harm's way, all we had to do was discourage the Andorians from pursuing you. What you witnessed was experience and instinct coming together."

"Fascinating," said Data.

Riker nodded and ran a hand through his hair. The grey smoky residue left on his palm confirmed that he could use a hot shower. He sighed, suddenly recognizing his own exhaustion. "I'm just glad we pulled it off."

* * *

Picard had crouched down next to the boy so as to appear less imposing. Ja'Nel, as Troi had promised, was very strong willed. He refused to answer even the simplest questions about the original trip from Vulcan. He also refused to tell Picard what had happened down on the surface of the Andorian colony. When asked about the adult Vulcans, and whether they had in fact perished, Ja'Nel remained silent.

T'Pel had a similar lack of success with T'Kal, the girl, who exhibited even more self-control than Ja'Nel. One thing that T'Pel was able to learn was that the two were siblings. "Where are your parents?" T'Kal remained silent. "Where is your leader, Ra'Val?" Nothing. "Is Ra"Val dead? Did he murder those Andorians? Did you murder the Andorians? Why did you leave Vulcan?" T'Kal remained silent throughout the session.

After many unanswered questions, T'Pel turned to regard Captain Picard. Her expression mirrored his own fear that if they persisted with these kinds of questions they might fail to learn anything at all.

* * *

"Doctor, may I speak with you?"

Crusher looked up as the sound of Troi's pleasant voice drifted into her office. It was hard to ignore Counselor Troi. She was someone most people would want to talk to, and Crusher wondered momentarily if this kind of approachability was a natural aspect of Troi's personality or simply a manifestation of her role as ship's counselor. Either way, Crusher had a feeling that if Troi wanted to know something about her, she could use her empathic powers to find out. And yet, Troi always asked how you were feeling. Clearly she would rather someone volunteer sensitive information, than have to use her powers to take it. As someone who was usually opposed to revealing her personal feelings, Crusher appreciated this.

"Yes," said Crusher. "Come in, I'm just finishing my reports on the Redeemer children."

Troi came in and sat down across from the Doctor. To her surprise, Crusher actually put her work aside and turned her attention to Deanna. Having sensed Crusher's irritation with Deanna's comments earlier, she was surprise the Doctor was now a bit more open to her.

"It's about Wesley," said Deanna.

"Oh?" Crusher's voice and expression remained even, but an invisible wall went up between them.

"And Captain Picard," Deanna added. Another wall. Troi's recent insight into Crusher's feelings abruptly changed and grew murky.

Crusher clasped her hands together and sat back in her chair. "What about him?"

"I sensed a number of complex emotions among the three of you this afternoon in Sickbay. In particular, it is clear that Wesley is extremely intimidated by Captain Picard."

Crusher made a face. "Troi, I have known Captain Picard for a long time now. Most of the time he can be an intimidating figure."

"Does he intimidate you?" Deanna asked evenly.

Crusher's expression was unforgettable. "I thought we were talking about my son," she snapped. "And the answer is no, by the way," she added caustically.

Deanna smiled kindly. "I see," she said. "I also sense that Wesley has a great…longing for Captain Picard's approval. But even more than that, he would like his affection."

Crusher stood up and adjusted the files on her desk. "It's only natural, I suppose," Beverly said. "His father –my husband Jack, died years ago. Maybe Wes is looking for a father figure to emulate."

Deanna looked at her squarely. "Tell me, Beverly: is that what Wesley wants, or is that what you want for him?"

* * *

**Hi, I appreciate your reading and reviewing. I hope you are enjoying the story, and Happy New year! -PP**


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Two, Chapter 4**

"I know you of all people don't need to be reminded of the importance of taking great care with our actions when dealing with this very delicate matter, Captain Picard." Admiral Imhoff's stern visage glowered at Jean-Luc Picard from the personal view screen in his ready room.

"And yet you feel the need to remind me anyway," thought Picard with some irritation. "No, Admiral, of course not," he said aloud.

"The Andorians are putting up quite the fuss right now at the office of the Federation President in Paris right now, Jean-Luc. That little skirmish the_ Enterprise _was involved in yesterday has become the talk at Headquarters as well," said Imhoff. Picard remained silent as the Admiral continued. "There are potential political ramifications of this incident, which it seems you did not fully consider when you fired on the Andorian ship yesterday, Captain."

Picard bristled at this, but kept his expression neutral. "The Andorians fired on the Enterprise first, Admiral. I assure you that I would not have issued the order to fire had it not been necessary. The Vulcan children we were ordered to protect were at grave risk, sir," he added.

The Admiral nodded. "I understand that, Captain, but there is more at stake here than the lives of a few children from some Vulcan cult. The Andorian Federation Cabinet members are demanding retribution for the crimes committed against their colonists, which they claim were perpetrated by these children or their cult leaders. The Vulcan delegates deny that the killings were in any way sanctioned by the Vulcan Council, and have so far refused to make any kind of overtures to the Andorian government."

"No doubt, infuriating the Andorians further," said Picard, beginning to feel quite infuriated himself. "What are my orders, Admiral?"

"You must do your damnedest to avoid war, Captain. War between the Andorians and the Vulcans would threaten the very fabric of the Federation. Right now, the Andorians see the Enterprise as sympathetic to the Vulcan cause and not their own. Your actions yesterday only served to cement this view."

"I understand, Admiral," said Picard. He was not at all happy about being reprimanded.

Imhoff's eyes narrowed. He knew Picard was attempting to give him the brush off, and he wasn't having it. "One more thing, Captain. There are a few higher ups who are now quietly reconsidering their decision to place you in command of the _Enterprise_." The Admiral paused to let the weight of his words hit home. Picard's expression remained hard, but he said nothing. "This is the new flag ship, Jean-Luc, and they don't want their most prized toy played with too roughly. When you were up for this post, there were some who questioned whether you were ready to come back to commanding a starship."

"I am aware of that, sir," said Picard, now struggling to keep his voice calm.

Admiral Imhoff continued almost gleefully. "Quite frankly, some were afraid you had lost your mind when you took the posting to the _Shark_ after the _Stargazer_ was lost. The fact that you would command anything less than a starship was unthinkable to many in Starfleet, including me. And then when you stayed out there on the far rim for so long...well, let's just say you might want to operate on the assumption that you are still on probation Captain."

Picard's face grew dark with anger. "Probation?"

Imhoff shrugged slightly. "In a manner of speaking, yes. I _expect _you to use your notable diplomatic skills in order to complete this mission, Captain. The new Starfleet needs Captains who have abilities extending beyond the battlefield. Imhoff out."

As the screen went to black, Picard sat back in his chair and interlaced his hands behind his head. "'New Starfleet'," he muttered. He needed a drink. "Tea," he snapped to the computer.

"Please specify type," intoned the computer.

"Earl Grey," he said, palming his forehead in general frustration.

"Please specify temperature."

"_Hot_, dammit!" Mercifully, the computer finally generated the requested beverage and it swirled into existence before his very eyes.

* * *

A few minutes later, Captain Picard sipped his tea; more or less recovered from the dressing down he had received from Admiral Imhoff. Across from him sat First Officer William Riker, who among other things was more of a coffee person.

"He actually criticized you for saving lives of those children?" Riker was incredulous. He shook his head. "Captain, you only did what was necessary."

Picard nodded with a small smile. "I appreciate your support, Commander, I do. However, we have got more important things to concern ourselves with than my bruised ego." Riker smiled.

"I would like to arrange a meeting with Commander Zatha of the Andorian ship we encountered yesterday. I am hoping that she can be reasoned with. If so, she may be able to help calm the political rhetoric down a bit before her planet starts a war. I think we shall meet aboard the Enterprise, if she is willing, of course."

Riker nodded his agreement, but was skeptical. "She might not have the freedom to choose a more reasonable course, Captain. Like us, she no doubt has to deal with bureaucratic directives."

Picard fiddled with his nearly empty tea cup. "You may be right, but I hope not. In my experience, Andorians respect honesty and reason. If she disagrees with the course her government is taking, my hope is that she will make her voice heard."

"I agree, it's worth a try, sir." Riker sat still, wondering if the meeting was now over. It was a nice gesture to ask his opinion, but it was clear the Captain had already made up his mind about his course of action. Riker's mind brought him back to his embarrassing encounter on the bridge with Picard during the Andorian incident. He hoped that Picard would eventually view him as an officer he could rely on, instead of an inexperienced subordinate. Riker knew he would need to do some serious ego-checking of his own, if he was to do well on this ship. He glanced up as Picard stood and began to pace around his desk.

"The other reason I asked you in here, is I would like you to lead an away team to the Andorian colony that was allegedly attacked by the Redeemers. Gather any evidence you can to help us piece together what might have happened down there. So far, T'Pel and I have been unable to find out anything from those children."

Riker perked up. "Aye sir. Will the Andorians allow us access?"

"Let me handle that part of it," said Picard. "That will give you enough time to prepare your team. Dismissed."

* * *

"I regret what happened yesterday, Commander Zatha. Even more than that, I regret that we are all here, in this unfortunate situation," said Picard.

The Andorian captain looked at him rather harshly from his computer console. "And I regret, Captain that you continue to be unwilling to hand over the murderers of my people."

"Commander, so far I have no evidence that these children murdered anyone. If I had some evidence to support your claims, perhaps I would understand better your need to have them."

"What are you suggesting?" asked Zatha suspiciously.

"Let my people beam down to the surface of the colony. Let us conduct our own investigation. Once we've done so, perhaps we will better understand each other's positions."

Zatha laughed. "Picard, even if I were to obtain permission for you to beam to the colony, what would that gain me? You do not even have the authority to deliver the Vulcans to me even if you are somehow convinced of the Vulcans' guilt."

"You're right, Commander. I do not have the authority to give you the children, and you do not have the authority to let me leave this sector as long as I have the children. It appears we are stuck with each other, in which case where is the harm in allowing me to investigate your claims? Clearly my ship is not going anywhere."

Zatha's thin lips curled into a slow smile. "Very well, Captain. I will report to you in one hour, as to whether we will allow you to beam to the colony. Zatha out."

* * *

"That was a close one yesterday," said Geordi, referring to the battle with the Andorian ship. He sat with his back to a view port in the Ten Forward lounge. The place was definitely a step up from the mess hall on the _Hood_. As he regarded his seating partner, he also noted that the company was an improvement as well. He slowly sipped his drink.

Tasha Yar shrugged. "I guess," she agreed, swirling her own drink around in its glass.

Geordi laughed. "What? You've seen closer?"

Yar remained serious. "There isn't a lot I haven't seen," she said.

Geordi put down his drink, intrigued. "Really?" She seemed to be the same age as him. It was hard to believe she had seen everything the universe had to offer already.

She fixed him with a look that indicated she didn't enjoy repeating herself. Geordi's visor registered a wave of something he recognized as irritation cross her face. It was not the emotion he was trying to inspire.

"Trust me, you don't want to know what I mean," she said somewhat cryptically and continued to fiddle with her glass. Yar wasn't interested in recounting her life's story, but she also didn't want people she just met to assume she was naïve. Yar had grown up hard, to put it mildly, and she was forever trying to overcome the horrible sights she had seen and the horrible things she had personally experienced growing up in a grimy, poverty-stricken human colony. The depths of depravity that she had seen people sink to, mixed with those brief moments of extreme kindness she had observed, did little to prepare her for a life in Starfleet in which she was expected to "get along" and cooperate.

But despite what she viewed as her own handicaps when it came to her personal relationships, she had excelled and risen through the ranks mainly due to her hard work and more than a little bravado. Judging by LaForge's happy-go-lucky demeanor, he wouldn't understand even if she wanted to open up to him. Good thing she had no intention of opening up to him, or anyone, unless it was on her own terms. But, she admitted to herself, she liked LaForge's sincere friendliness. It was endearing, and the main reason she had agreed to have drinks with him, and probably the only reason she hadn't left yet.

LaForge now found himself completely at a loss, which was typical when he was talking one on one with a woman that he was attracted to. Were personal subjects off limits then? Honestly, he had no idea. But he tried again. "Well…what do you like to do for fun? You know… hobbies?" He took another sip of his drink, in an attempt at nonchalance.

"You mean when I'm not on duty? I don't know," Yar shrugged. "I suppose I like to exercise…and have sex," she added casually.

Geordi tried not to spit out his drink, which resulted in choking it back. The drink had been too strong for him to begin with, and now his poor eyes were watering. He wiped underneath his visor self-consciously.

"What's the matter? You don't like sex?"

Geordi tapped his chest and exhaled. "Sure I do," he said hoarsely. "I've just never had it regularly enough to describe it as a hobby." Yar gave him a sly smile and then looked up distractedly. Geordi followed her eyes and saw that Lt. Commander Data was approaching.

Data stopped at their table somewhat stiffly. "May I join you?" he asked, looking from Yar to Laforge.

"Uh…."Geordi did not know whether to tell him to go away, or hold onto him for dear life and beg him not to leave. Tasha made the decision for him.

"Sure, have a seat," she offered. She stood up. "I actually have to go on shift soon, so you'll have to excuse me." She turned away and then back to look at LaForge. "Oh and Geordi, if you are free sometime soon, let me know if you are interested in learning some new hobbies."

* * *

Geordi and Data both watched her walk away. Geordi exhaled loudly and then looked at Data. "That was completely surreal," he said under his breath.

Data tilted his head. "Surreal: fantastic, unbelievable, an irrational reality…surrealism: a philosophical and artistic movement originating on 1920's Earth…" he trailed off, because Lt. LaForge had suddenly buried his head in his hands in an unusual manner. Data leaned forward over the table and attempted to peer into the young man's face in order to discern whether he was ill.

Geordi looked up quickly to find his android commanding officer staring into his face from about three inches away. "Whoa," he said, sitting back awkwardly. He sighed. "Sorry sir; just didn't expect you to be right there."

"What is it that you were doing with your hands a few moments ago?" Data moved his hands up and down mechanically near his face in an effort to recreate what he had observed. "You appeared to be hiding, Lt. LaForge. But, from what?"

Geordi blushed. "I was just… embarrassed, that's all. Story of my life," he murmured.

Data frowned. "The story of your life is one of embarrassment," said Data as if in confirmation. "How intriguing." Data sat forward with interest. He was hopeful that one day he too would be able to tell someone the story of his life, and if possible, to sum it up in one sentence, as Lt. LaForge had done.

* * *

"So, how did you manage it?" Doctor Crusher was still pulling on her blue lab coat, when she fell into stride with the Captain. She was on her way to meet Riker, T'Pel, Yar, LaForge and Worf in the transporter room, and Picard was going presumably to see them off. Several hours ago, the Andorian ship the _Ishran _had rendezvoused with the Enterprise and escorted the ship to the colony on an Andorian moon. There, Riker had informed them, they would investigate the deaths of the colonists.

"Manage what?" said Picard, taking her med kit for her, while she pulled on her coat. She smiled a thank you to him when he handed it back.

"To convince the captain of the ship you fired on yesterday to do you a favor," remarked Crusher.

Picard smiled. "Perhaps Commander Zatha and I are cut from the same cloth. Sometimes ship's captains have an understanding, even when they are supposed to be enemies."

Crusher looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "What about ship's captains and ship's doctors? Can they develop an understanding?"

Picard laughed. "I've heard about such things, but I'd always thought the idea somewhat mythical." They fell silent, as they neared the transporter room.

She turned to him and they halted at the entrance. "I wanted to thank you for the way you spoke to my son yesterday. I talked to him later in the evening, and it actually meant the world to him that you shook his hand."

Picard nodded. "That's good to hear. I am just glad that he wasn't harmed yesterday. Doctor, if anything had happened to him—"

Crusher reached out and touched his arm. "Jean-Luc, it's alright. I know he was in good hands. In fact, I think we all are."

"Beverly," he said, as she turned to walk away. She stopped and looked at him. "Be safe down there." She nodded with a confident smile and disappeared into the transporter room.

* * *

Deanna Troi looked up at the sound of her door chime. She wasn't expecting anyone. "Yes? Come in please," she called out. To her surprise, it was Captain Picard. And he looked fairly uncomfortable. She stood up as he walked in to her office. He glanced around and appeared to approve of the space. He traced his hand along her desk absently.

"Hello, Counselor," he said, walking to a couch where she held her one on one sessions. "May I?" he said gesturing to the couch.

"Please," she said, gesturing for him to sit down. She sat down across from him, and leaned forward with her hands on her knees. He shifted in his seat and laced his fingers together. "What can I do for you, Captain?" she asked.

"I need your assistance, Counselor," he said, as though needing her assistance was really the last thing he had ever wanted.

Deanna looked into his eyes with compassion. "Captain, I appreciate that you came here to talk with me. I know that it is difficult for you to ask for assistance."

"It's about the children," said Picard. "I have been completely unable to get them to answer my questions. Even T'Pel hasn't been able to break through to them, and she is a powerful telepath and, of course she is Vulcan." He paused and looked down at his hands. "I am not sure what I am doing wrong," he admitted.

Troi smiled. "Perhaps it is not about doing anything right or wrong Captain. Maybe instead it is about the emotional and physical ordeal these children have been through. They don't want you to reach them, so the fact that you are unable to is not surprising."

"Counselor, you said yourself they appear to be keeping some sort of secret."

Troi sighed. "Yes…but there is something more. I am concerned that the children appear to be under some kind of outside influence, although I cannot be sure, Captain. Something or someone is preventing them from telling us what happened to them."

"Would you be willing to accompany me to talk with them again? I am headed to their temporary quarters right now. Now that T'Pel is with the away team…."

"Of course, Captain. I am happy to be of help." He smiled at her, and for the first time since she had met him, she sensed that he meant it.

* * *

**Hello everyone. Thanks for reading and reviewing. Have a safe and happy New Year! -PP**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

As T'Pel materialized with the away team, she fought to quiet her emotions. Without her Kolinhar training, she would not have been prepared to confront the ghosts and demons that awaited them. The last vestiges of the beings that had so recently lived on this world still floated in agony among the empty dwellings and through the streets of the colony on the Andorian moon. She knew the others, the Starfleet officers could not sense the ghosts. If they had, they would have surely been driven insane with fear and despair.

The ghosts swirled about her body, as she walked through the colony. By her side was Dr. Crusher, who carried a tricorder in front of her as if it were a shield. She could feel Crusher's fear encircle her, but like the ghosts, T'Pel kept the human woman's fear at bay, and did not let it affect her own emotions. The other officers spread throughout the colony, attending to their duties, gathering data to help them to understand what had occurred there. T'Pel, though thoroughly logical, needed little scientific evidence to tell her that many people had been killed here, and recently.

The method of killing, T'Pel could now guess, but the reason why, was still a mystery to her. What she needed to know for certain was if Ra'Val was still alive, for she knew that if anyone was capable of this level of destruction, it was him. While there was no evidence yet that he was still in this world, she had sensed him when she was on the Enterprise although faintly. Ra'Val was her brother, and although they had been estranged for years, as long as he lived she would be able to sense him.

"This is amazing," Crusher was saying under her breath, as she waved her tricorder in front of her. She tapped at the instrument energetically. She glanced up at T'Pel, who had been silent since the beam down. "The area is full of Andorian genetic material, but it is literally microscopic." She shook her head as though she did not believe what the tricorder was telling her.

"Yes," said T'Pel. "Many have died here, Doctor. We must be vigilant should the killer still be present," she added, knowing it was unlikely that Ra'Val was still here. She did intend dishonesty, but she also did not wish to reveal her connection to Ra'Val until it was necessary.

* * *

Lt. Worf walked among the empty buildings of the colony, phaser drawn, as Chief of Security Yar had instructed. He preferred to work alone. So far, he felt little connection to any of his new crew members. He was however, impressed with the Captain, who seemed to be at times very Klingon-like; honorable and brave, if a bit too stoic to be a true Klingon. He could tell that like him, Picard was uninterested in emotional topics, and preferred to keep his feelings to himself unless necessary. Picard might be the exception to the rule, however. Although Worf had been raised from an early age by humans, he was under no illusion that he was anything like human beings.

For one thing, they were much too talkative for his taste. The food and drink they consumed tasted too bland to him. They were also too sensitive to emotional matters he could easily ignore. Instead of smashing a table with his bare fists, as Worf would sometimes do to resolve the anger caused by emotional problems, Worf had observed that a human instead would often shout, complain and…cry. Up until now, he had not observed any of his crew members crying, but, he had lived among humans long enough to know it was only a matter of time.

* * *

Riker scuffed his boot in the rocks and dust and squinted as he slowly surveyed the colony. There was no one left. The Captain said Commander Zatha had suggested there might have been survivors. But it looked as though the Andorians had evacuated anyone who had lived through…well, whatever had happened here. Riker was baffled by the absolute absence of any sign of physical damage to the domestic structures of the colony, and that there was no sign of weapons fire or explosives.

He was again skeptical that the Andorians were telling the truth about the deaths here, but he saw no motive for them to lie. The other thing was that he could just_ feel_ that something horrible had happened here, even if he could not see any proof of the event. He glanced over at Dr. Crusher who was talking to T'Pel in quiet tones. She kept gesturing to her tricorder, so it seemed, she had found something. He was about to walk in her direction, when he heard a shout. It was Lt. LaForge.

"Sir! Come quick!" Geordi LaForge was kneeling on the ground and staring intensely in the direction of his knees. Lt. Yar stood beside him, phaser pointing in the same direction. He began to jog in their direction, and arrived next to them quickly.

"What did you find," he said, stopping next to Yar, and pulling his phaser.

Geordi looked up at him. "It's a humanoid life form," said LaForge. "Someone is in there, sir, and whoever they are, they're alive," he said pointing at a grimy hatch in the ground, partially covered by dust. Riker listened, but could hear nothing. LaForge's visor had come in handy, Riker thought, and probably not for the last time. He turned as Crusher arrived at his side, slightly out of breath.

"What is it?" She said. T'Pel seemed to glide up behind them.

Riker nodded to Geordi. "Geordi thinks he's found someone alive down there under that hatch."

Dr. Crusher flipped open her tricorder. Almost immediately she said "Geordi's right, and she's an Andorian," said Crusher. "Looks like we have one survivor after all."

Worf glanced at Riker, who nodded silent permission. Worf leaned down and grabbed at the edge of the hatch, attempting to pry it up with his fingers. It came up with a hiss, but was still stuck. He rattled it, but no luck. "It is locked from the inside," said Worf.

"Sir?" said Yar.

"Go ahead," nodded Riker. "Just be careful."

Yar tapped a button on her phaser twice and a very thin beam issued from the weapon. The edge of the hatch glowed red, and then with a puff of smoke, popped open. Yar immediately advanced to the edge of what appeared to be an agricultural storage bin, and pointed her phaser down at the sole occupant of the bin. A female Andorian stared back at her, frightened, but defiant. By the looks of her, she was a teenager. She'd seen the look on that girl's face too many times in her life. Slowly, she lowered her phaser. "Hey," she said, crouching down. "We're here to help you." The girl looked as though she was considering fighting. Instead, as though she had springs in her legs, she leapt from the bottom of the bin, and scrambled out onto the ground. She tried to spring away, but Worf grabbed her quickly and then held onto her as gently as possible. The girl bit him on the shoulder and flailed her limbs wildly. Suddenly and without warning, she went limp. Had he crushed her lungs? Worf looked at Doctor Crusher, alarmed.

She smiled grimly and held up a hypo. "Tranquilizer. She'll be out for a few hours at least."

Worf nodded. "Thank you Doctor. For a moment, I was certain that I had killed her."

Crusher stared at him for a moment and then patted him on the arm, not quite sure how to respond to that declaration.

Riker shut the hatch. "We're done here," he said. "Let's return to the ship. "Transporter room, seven to beam up."

* * *

Picard and Troi sat across from the boy. Ja'Nel was his name and he was slim and very poised. "Ja'Nel, we need your help," said Deanna. Ja'Nel looked from Troi to Picard blankly and then back at the table.

"Ja'Nel," said Picard leaning forward seriously. "I need some information from you. Can you tell us what happened down on the Andorian moon?"

Ja'Nel said nothing.

"Ja'Nel," said Deanna. "I think you must have seen some horrible things. Perhaps it might make you feel better if you told us what happened."

The boy hung his head and whispered something. Troi attempted to make eye contact with him. "Ja'Nel, what did you say?"

He looked up at her, and for the first time, an emotion shone in his eyes. It was pain. "I will never feel better," said Ja'Nel. Just as quickly, his expression grew blank again. He resumed his staring down at the table.

Deanna Troi was amazed at the level of control the young man was showing.

"Ja'Nel," said Deanna leaning forward. "What happened to the leader of your group, Ra'Val?"

The boy placed his palms on the table in front of him and began to move them back and forth in a peculiar manner. Picard eyed him with some concern.

"Ja'Nel-" began Picard.

"You must stop these questions," said the boy in a suddenly threatening voice. "Or I will not be able to stop it," he said.

Troi reached out to touch the boy's hand and that is when everything went wrong. Picard felt himself being pushed back and out of his chair as if by a great wind. Troi was also pushed up and out of her chair, and for a moment they were suspended in mid-air. They could both see with horror that Ja'Nel's eyes had turned black and there seemed to be no end to their darkness. His mouth hung open and light seemed to emit from inside of him. He stared at them, through them, and then suddenly they were thrust backward at a great speed. Picard felt Troi slam into him and he grabbed her around the waist, trying to protect her as they spun to the floor. Picard landed on the floor hard, his chin and then his forehead crashing to into the hard deck with a crunch. Troi landed partially on top of him.

"Ugh," moaned Troi, and rolled off of the Captain. Her head had struck the floor, and she could already feel a welt on the side of her scalp, near her temple. She gingerly felt it with her fingers and then inspected them for blood. There was none. She looked at the Captain, who conscious and now sitting up. "Sir, you're bleeding," she exclaimed. She winced, at that, finding that the act of speaking made her nauseous and the pain in her head increased.

"I'm alright," he said groggily and then pushed himself to his feet slowly. He was looking for the boy. Were they out of danger? At first he didn't see Ja'Nel anywhere, but then suddenly his eyes fell on the boy. He was under the table, lying on his back and convulsing. Picard hit his communicator and crouched down. "Transporter room, this is the Captain in the main briefing room on Deck 9. Counselor Troi is injured, and I have a boy here who is having some sort of seizure. Lock on to my location and beam all three of us to sickbay," he ordered. He scooped the boy up into his arms just as the transport beam enveloped them.

* * *

Ensign Revel, the nurse on duty was waiting for the Captain and the others to materialize. Doctor Crusher had not yet returned from the Andorian colony. After the Captain had called in an emergency transport, Revel had rushed to begin preparing three beds, not knowing what to expect. The Captain materialized a few moments later, carrying one of the rescued Vulcan children in his arms. The Captain's face and neck were covered in blood. Counselor Troi materialized, in a slumped position appearing quite disoriented. Picard ran to one of the examination beds and placed the boy on it. The Captain had said the boy was having a seizure, but now it appeared the boy had fallen unconscious. Revel rushed in to help the Captain adjust the boy on the bed, while another nurse helped Counselor Troi to a second bed.

"Captain, you need medical attention," said Revel, quickly trying to gauge the extent of the Captain's injuries. It appeared he had a large gash above his left eyebrow, as well as a cut on his chin, both of which had bled profusely but were now starting to clot. Although the Captain looked horrible, Revel guessed that his wounds were not serious.

Picard ignored him, and began methodically placing restraints on the unconscious boy's wrists and ankles.

Revel was confused. "Sir, what are you—"

Just then, Dr. Crusher, Commander Riker, and Lt. Worf walked in to sick bay. Worf was carrying what appeared to be an Andorian female in his arms. Picard finished placing the restraints on the Vulcan boy and then turned at the sound of footsteps.

"What the hell?" Crusher signaled for Worf to place the still-unconscious Andorian girl on a bio bed for a scan. "Captain, you're injured, and you need to sit down," she said, stepping to his side. "Nurse, take care of your patient," she snapped at Revel, looking from Revel to the Vulcan boy, confusion clearly on her face.

Picard turned to face Commander Riker. "Commander, good to have you back on board. I'd like a report please."

Riker looked at Picard with astonishment. "Captain," he said, glancing at Dr. Crusher for support. "You appear to be injured, sir—"

"Commander, I need a report from you—"

"Captain Picard," said Crusher, now gripping his arm in her hand. "Your reports can wait until I have cleared you for duty, now _sit down_," she said firmly, guiding him to an examination bed. Reluctantly he moved with her.

* * *

Riker felt a pang of something familiar in his head. _Imzadi…_. Turning, he saw that Deanna was lying on a bed where medical personnel were administering to her. Shocked, he walked over to her side. She was awake, but groggy. He bent over her. "Deanna," he said. "What happened?" She smiled weakly up at him, but squeezed his hand when he offered it. He looked up at the nurse. "Is she going to be alright?"

The nurse was professional and efficient. "Commander, the counselor sustained a concussion and several minor contusions on her arms and legs from a severe fall. She will recover fully in a few days, sir."

"Fall?"

Deanna opened her eyes again. "Will it was Ja'Nel, the leader of the Redeemer children. He threw the Captain and me across the room so that we would stop asking him questions."

"_Threw_ you?" Riker looked over at the small, frail looking teenager.

Deanna blinked. Her vision was so foggy. "With his mind," she said dully.

Riker shook his head in bewilderment. He lifted her hand and kissed it lightly, causing her to smile again. "Please get some rest. I need to talk with the Captain."

* * *

"Captain, I'm sorry to interrupt, but…"

Captain Picard turned with some effort to look at Riker from where he was sitting on the exam bed. His face had now been cleaned off revealing a huge gash above his eye and one on his chin. Dr. Crusher was gripping his face gently but firmly, as she used a dermal knitting tool to close the wounds.

"I thought you were on my side, Commander," Crusher remarked, a slight edge to her voice. Riker chose to ignore the dig.

"Yes, what is it, Number One?" asked Picard. Riker smiled in spite of everything that had just happened. Number One? He liked the sound of that.

"Sir, Counselor Troi just told me that little boy caused you both to be injured…with his mind. I recommend he be sedated as soon as possible, sir, to prevent this happening again."

Picard rolled his eyes in order to look at Crusher, who was still holding on to his face, restricting his movement. "Doctor, do you agree? Can the boy be safely sedated for an extended period of time?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'll do it personally, once I finish here," she said evenly.

Picard glanced at Riker again. "Anything else I should know, Riker?"

"Yes, sir. We've brought back a survivor, an Andorian girl."

"A survivor? Is she conscious?"

"She was a bit excitable Captain, so Dr. Crusher had to tranquilize her."

Picard pulled away from Crusher's ministrations for a moment so that he could look at her. "Did you bring her aboard without her permission? I ordered you to investigate, not kidnap Andorian citizens," he snapped.

"Captain, you didn't expect us to leave a child alone down on that moon, did you? There was no one else alive down there," retorted Crusher. She tried to resume her stitching with the tool, but Picard held her wrist, and they continued to glare at each other.

Riker interjected, clearing his throat in an attempt to prevent things from worsening. It was the first time he noticed that the tension between these two might be something other than just professional. For a moment his mind shot back to those moments in the shuttle and Wesley's comments about Picard. Apparently, their history was alive and well in the present.

"Actually, Captain, I think Doctor Crusher is right," said Riker. The Captain gave him an acerbic look that seemed to say "oh you think she's right, do you?" but Riker pressed on anyway. "The girl was hiding, she was so frightened from what had happened. There is no way the Andorian government was aware she was still down there. In fact, sir, I think that the Andorians will thank us, once they've learned that we found her."

Picard folded his arms over his chest and seemed to be weighing his options. "We'll wait for her to wake up in a few hours and then obtain any information we can from her about the attack on her home. Once we've spoken to her, then we'll notify the Andorians of her presence. And since you gave the order to beam her back, Commander, I'm sure you won't mind doing the honors, informing Commander Zatha of this new development," he added, smiling tightly.

"Understood sir," said Riker with a curt nod. "Now if you'll excuse me."

* * *

Crusher finished mending Picard's facial wounds shortly after Riker left. The mood between them was still tense, but now that Crusher was done with her work Picard found she was much easier to deal with. Perhaps, he reasoned, he should not have been so harsh with her about the Andorian girl. It was likely he would have done the same, had he been there. Perhaps it was the fact that he hadn't been there that bothered him even more. He didn't like the idea of his crew being at-risk without him having the ability to act on their behalf to keep them safe. But, that had been Riker's role, and in fact everyone had come back uninjured, except for Worf, who, Crusher informed him, had been bitten superficially by their Andorian visitor.

Crusher patted his face lightly. He knew it was her attempt to mend fences, so to speak, without actually saying anything about it. "You'll be as good as new in a few days, Captain. Judging by what you report happened, you were fortunate not to have been more seriously injured."

Picard nodded. "Thank you, Doctor, I am feeling fine."

"Good," said Crusher. She put her tools away and turned back to him. "Jean-Luc?"

Her use of his first name always touched something deep inside him that he couldn't quite place. It was something about the tone she used, or the gentle turn her voice took when she called him by his name. It always changed the flow of the conversation and mood. "Yes?" he said.

"Will told me that Admiral Imhoff gave you a bit of a hard time yesterday."

Will? "Oh, Commander Riker," he said. "He told you that?" He frowned. So much for confidentiality between a Captain and his First Officer.

"Yes," she said. "Jean-Luc, I know you are under tremendous pressure to show Starfleet what the Enterprise is capable of, and that the politicians are watching your every move…." He looked into her eyes, not really sure what she was getting at, but feeling suddenly connected to her in a very comfortable way. He wasn't used to that.

She sighed and smiled at him. "I just want you to know that I'll support you professionally, no matter what. I know that in the past sometimes your commanding officers have held you responsible for…"

"Never for anything I wasn't responsible for Beverly. I always took responsibility for—"

"Jean-Luc, I don't want to talk about the past right now," she interrupted softly. She studied his face. "What I want to know is will you let me support you personally now- not just as a colleague. As a friend, I mean," she added somewhat hastily.

He smiled. "As a friend, of course. But only if you will promise that you will rely on me as well for whatever you need. And that goes for Wesley too."

She looked at him and her eyes seemed to shimmer with warmth. "Agreed."

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope everyone has a happy and healthy 2013. -PP**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"He continues to sleep," said T'Pel, peering down at the young Redeemer boy, Ja'Nel. The Vulcan woman stood with quiet composure by his bedside.

Crusher sighed. "It's more serious than sleep. He is nearly comatose. The Captain and Commander Riker ordered me to sedate him, but the truth is, he didn't need sedation after that incident." she said. She reached down and touched the boy's gaunt face. Her face was shadowed with sadness. "I keep thinking, T'Pel…what would his parents think if they knew the condition he was in? It makes my heart ache just thinking about Wesley falling ill like this, and then just suddenly not being there."

T'Pel turned to Beverly. "Doctor, what Ja'Nel is experiencing is similar to what you saw me undergo ten years ago. It is a natural way in which Vulcans heal themselves." Crusher fixed her with a somber expression. Was she trying to be comforting? As if Beverly needed to be reminded of that awful time in addition to everything else that was happening in the present. T'Pel seemed to sense her discomfort. "This subject disturbs you. We need not discuss it."

Crusher reached up and smoothed her hair uneasily. "Well, yes, I do try to avoid dredging up those images too often. But …I do remember you seemed to be in a semi-comatose state after…. "She trailed off, looking down at her hands. "But you did wake up long enough to try and comfort me. And it meant a great deal to me," she added softly.

T'Pel stared vacantly, as though she had returned to her past in those moments. Abruptly she moved away from Ja'Nel's beside and gestured to Crusher's office. "May I speak with you privately, Doctor?" Beverly nodded and followed T'Pel, after giving one last glance at the boy lying placidly.

* * *

Once they had entered Crusher's office, T'Pel sat down, hands folded in her lap. "For many years I have thought about this subject…"

Crusher sat down across from her with a wary expression. "What subject?" she asked, hoping T'Pel did not want to discuss what now had entered her own mind.

T'Pel looked directly into her eyes. "I would like to explain to you, Doctor, what happened to your husband." She paused. "If you will allow me, of course," she said.

Crusher reflexively brought her hand to her lips, and tried to steady herself. The unexpected shock of hearing those words, and the possibility that she might learn the truth after all of these years, struck her almost physically. She pressed herself back into her chair for support. The fact was that deep down she had always wanted to know how Jack had died, but now faced with the opportunity, she was not sure if it was still what she wanted. "Go ahead," she heard herself say as though it was someone else speaking.

"The Stargazer had been in a skirmish with some Orion pirates, who had attacked a civilian commercial recreation vessel. The vessel had strayed into Orion territory, and the _Stargazer_ was required to launch a rescue effort. The_ Stargazer _took considerable damage but the Orions eventually withdrew and the civilians were rescued. I recall that following this incident, Captain Picard was quite angry at the carelessness displayed by the captain of the commercial vessel in putting his vacationing passengers at risk by straying into Orion territory."

"When the _Stargazer_ delivered the rescued civilians to Starbase 146, the Captain made his views known when he reported to Admiral Levy, the station administrator. The Captain was very upset by what he viewed as unnecessary damage to the Stargazer and risk to its crew, although none of the crew were seriously injured during the Orion battle. Admiral Levy was unconcerned by Captain Picard's anger. Captain Picard requested shore leave for the crew. Admiral Levy granted the request for shore leave, but postponed it, requiring that the Stargazer first travel to Urivia IV to complete a planetary survey. Captain Picard was ordered to bring a civilian botanist aboard for the survey, so that the botanist could obtain soil samples from an ancient rainforest ecosystem in the equatorial region of the planet. The botanist, it turned out, was a friend of Admiral Levy's, and suffice it to say Captain Picard was…unhappy with his orders, so much so that he informed me he considered filing a formal complaint."

"But he carried out his orders anyway," said Crusher mechanically. Of course he had carried them out. In a way, she hoped T'Pel would just continue speaking forever to delay the inevitable.

"Of course," said T'Pel, and the continued. "When we arrived at the planet, Captain Picard chose an away team and arranged for the bridge crew to complete the planet survey from orbit. Lt. Commander Crusher, Lt. Garber, and I accompanied the botanist down to the planet's surface. We were nearly finished collecting the soil and root samples when my tricorder began to register a uniform signal. I determined based on the frequency that it could be a distress signal."

"And you decided to investigate."

"No. I recommended that we contact the Captain and tell him about the distress beacon. Jack overruled me and insisted on investigating. He was concerned about the welfare of whoever had issued the signal."

Crusher smiled to herself. That sounded like Jack. Always thinking with his heart first. During his life, his heart had had gotten him into trouble more than once, but it had led him in the moments when he was at his best. It only made sense that he should die trying to do what he believed was right.

"It took us some time to find the source of the beacon, as the jungle was quite dense. The beacon was located inside an immense stone structure. It was clear that it was very old, but had been built by sentient life forms, possibly humanoid, judging by the construction. When we descended into the structure, we saw signs that pirates or smugglers had been present recently, but apart from that the structure appeared to be abandoned."

"And the signal?" prompted Crusher.

"We found it in a cargo container inside a large hall. It was not a distress beacon, or if it was, its originators were long dead. Evidence of skeletal remains were present inside a large room." Crusher exhaled, suddenly aware that she had been holding her breath.

"We were ready to turn back, when we heard a low hum behind us. I was about fifteen steps ahead of Jack. I was closer to the exit. Jack saw the object first and shouted. It was fascinating to observe and we both seemed to freeze in place. To us it appeared to be an orb of light, but when it moved it seemed to be watching us, studying us." Crusher gripped the arms of her chair tightly. "Jack asked me what it was. I slowly moved my tricorder with my left hand, and almost instantly, the orb attacked me. I now believe that it considered my tricorder to be a weapon. Its ray pierced my arm, and…I have never felt pain like that since," she said, and touched her mechanized left arm lightly, as if remembering. "It incinerated my arm, and I fell, sustaining a head wound. Jack cried out. He must have fallen, for I saw him lying prone, reaching out for me. Before I fell unconscious I told him not to move. I don't remember anything else until I awoke in the hospital on the Star Base."

Crusher shook her head. "But… you didn't see Jack die? Why are you telling me this then?" She felt a growing sense of outrage as she regarded the woman sitting across from her.

"Lt. Garber and Security Chief Bramberg, and two medics witnessed most of what happened after I fell unconscious."

"Yes, Garber did tell me something, but she was very vague, perhaps out of well-intentioned concern for my feelings," said Crusher.

"It was Captain Picard who saw first-hand the death of your husband. But he has never spoken of it to anyone."

"Certainly not to me," said Beverly quietly, looking down at the table.

"I will tell you what I was told," said T'Pel. "Because I believe it will help you to heal, and because if I am correct, it is what you want," she said.

Crusher stared straight ahead over T'Pel's shoulder. "Yes," she said in a near whisper. "I want to know."

"Captain Picard and his officers arrived at the scene when I was unconscious. Jack warned Picard not to come closer, because the orb responded to motion, and he was correct. Jack also guessed correctly that the Orb functioned only within the confines of the room. The Captain ordered Bramberg and Garber to find the source of the Orb, and if possible deactivate it. The medical personnel warned the Captain not to enter the room, but perhaps out of fear of what would happen, to Jack and me, he acted before the Orb was neutralized. He ran into the room and carried me back to safety so that I could be treated by medical personnel."

"He saved your life," breathed Crusher. But not Jack's; he couldn't save Jack.

"Yes," said T'Pel. "And that is how he was injured as you saw him at Starbase 23. The orb nearly took his life. Instead of obtaining adequate medical attention, he turned back, with the intention of saving Jack. The Captain paused at the doorway. Jack had been able to move closer when the Captain carried me to safety, because the orb had focused on Captain Picard's movement, and not Jack. The medic told me it happened so quickly. The floor gave way under Jack, and the orb, sensing motion, attacked him. The Captain ran to his side, but it was too late. Almost as soon as the orb attacked, the orb was neutralized. When Garber and Bramberg arrived at the scene, Jack was already dead. Captain Picard refused to leave him, and he had to be…forcibly removed Jack's body."

Crusher sat back in her chair as if released by a force that had been holding her upright. She looked down at her hands, for there was really nothing to say.

* * *

Wesley Crusher walked briskly through the ship corridors. He'd been practicing a more confident walk, although actual confidence hadn't yet come with it. He was excelling in school, but he was still awkward with his classmates. When he wasn't writing equations or focused on a solving problem he found that he was uncomfortable in almost any social situation. With other kids he discussed subjects they found boring. With adults he blurted out questions that often embarrassed himself or the adults he was talking with. And when he was alone, he daydreamed about being on the bridge, or in engineering. He had tried to be cool around people his own age, but it didn't work. The only person who understood his difficulties was his mom, but Wesley was getting to the age when he found it difficult to keep going to her every time he had a personal problem. Of course she wouldn't mind, and would say that was what she was there for, but….Well, while she was busy healing patients in sickbay and going on away team missions, it was pretty clear to him that her down time was now more limited than ever, and he didn't want to be a burden.

As he rounded a corner, he saw Captain Picard and Commander Data stepping off of a turbo lift. It appeared that they were heading in the same direction he was; to sick bay. Hesitating slightly at the sight of the Captain, he again fell into his confident stride, and joined them. Placing his hands behind his back, he attempted an adult expression of seriousness.

"Good afternoon, Captain, Commander," he said as smoothly as possible. Data nodded with a slight smile.

Captain Picard turned to regard him, and Wesley was somewhat alarmed to see that the left side of the Captain's face was bruised and cut. Despite this, he smiled tightly at Wesley, perhaps noting Wesley's alarmed reaction to his injury. Wesley noticed that although Captain Picard's bearing was as formal as ever, his eyes seemed to hold more warmth than before.

"Hello, Mr. Crusher," said Picard by way of greeting. "On your way to sickbay?" The boy nodded. "Good," said Picard, "we are as well."

"I uh, I was on my way to see Mom-I mean Dr. Crusher. But if you are going to see her too, sir, I can wait."

"I certainly don't mind if you need to visit your mother, Wesley. Just try and stay out of the way," Picard added.

"We are going to perform an interrogation, Wesley," said Data, in a tone that indicated he thought performing an interrogation promised to be great fun.

"Not quite, Data," corrected Picard dryly. "I don't equate questioning a teenage girl with performing an interrogation."

Welsey was curious. "A teenage girl?"

Picard looked at Wesley with a degree of amusement. Ah, youth. "Your mother and the other members of the away team found a young Andorian female down on the surface of the moon we are orbiting. They thought it…prudent to bring her on board."

"You don't think it was a good idea to bring her aboard, do you sir?" asked Wesley with a knowing smile.

Picard sighed and looked down at the boy with a frown. "My thoughts on the matter are really irrelevant at this stage, Wesley. She's now on board. She was sedated, and is now just waking up," said Picard.

* * *

They slowed as they entered sickbay. Dr. Crusher was monitoring the Andorian's vital signs, as the girl groggily began flexing her hands and feet. She moaned, and muttered in her native language, clearly disoriented. As she looked around and seemed to register where she was, a look of fear crossed her face.

Wesley stood enthralled. The Andorian girl appeared to be about seventeen in Earth years. To him, the girl was beautiful, but then even Wesley was aware that to him most girls were beautiful.

Doctor Crusher looked up at them and appeared to be about to say something, when the girl suddenly began to thrash about. Data and Picard rushed over and before Crusher could get a hypo anywhere near her, Picard grabbed Crusher and moved her out of the way of the girl's flailing limbs. The result was that the Andorian connected hard with her bony fist to his left eye, reopening the recently sealed cut. The girl screamed something at them in her native language. Andorians were known to be fierce warriors and apparently they started at a young age.

"Data," Picard grunted and staggered back slightly. Data moved forward quickly and grasped the girl's wrists, holding them gently but firmly as Dr. Crusher moved in to administer a sedative.

Picard, still holding his eye shouted "Wait! Don't give her anything too strong. We've got to get some answers from her before I meet with Zatha again."

Crusher shook her head. "I'll give her a low dosage. I know you need answers from her Captain, but the most I can promise is that her punches will be slower."

He nodded and wiped the palm of his hand above his eye. His hand came away slick with blood, but he knew it was just an aggravation of his previous injury.

She glanced back at him. "I _had_ a sedative ready, Captain. That is, before you decided to interfere with my patient," she said sharply.

"I was merely concerned for your safety, Doctor," he said, blinking his eye several times to ensure that it still worked.

"While I appreciate your concern, Captain, I hope for all of our sakes that you will start showing the same regard for your own personal welfare." She moved back as the girl stopped struggling so intensely. Crusher nodded to the Captain, as she finished the hypo.

Visibly annoyed by Crusher's dismissive tone, Picard tapped a panel on the wall, switching on the universal translator.

"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard," he said to the still writhing Andorian. Data continued to hold her steadily, until gradually she appeared to relax physically at least. "You are here with us aboard our ship the _U.S.S._ _Enterprise_. You are safe here, but we must ask you some questions about what happened to your village."

"If you come near me again I'll punch you in the nuts this time," warned the girl. The universal translator was remarkable in its accuracy.

"Really, young lady, that will not be necessary, " said Picard, walking toward her. Data followed at his side. Despite his approach, Picard instinctively dropped his hands to protect below his waist as he maintained eye contact.

The girl narrowed her eyes and balled up her fist threateningly. "Do you want to test that theory?"

Picard glanced at Crusher out of the corner of his eye. She was glaring at him, arms crossed over her chest, waiting. Behind her stood Wesley Crusher who looked positively ill. Picard then glanced at Data, who appeared in contrast serene and unconcerned by the situation. "Very well," the Captain said, slowly. "I will ask my questions from over here," he agreed. The girl smiled somewhat maliciously.

"What is your name?" asked the Captain.

The girl tilted her head at him. "I have no name anymore. My family was murdered."

"I am so sorry for your loss," said Picard gently. "We want to make sure that you are reunited with your people soon. But…we would be very grateful if you would tell us what happened."

The girl dropped her gaze and for the first time, looked less like a defiant warrior and more like an abandoned child. "They were Vulcans." She looked up sharply. "My parents always told me that Vulcans were wise…and gentle. No one in my village expected what happened to us that day."

Crusher ventured softly. "We were shocked to find that you had survived, after so many of your people were killed," she said. "How…"

"I hid, that is how I survived. Only those of us who took cover survived. I am weak and yet I am still here," she said as though she were surprised by her continued existence.

"No one who survived what you did, could be considered weak," Picard reassured her. "You said only those who hid survived. What happened to the others? Did they fight?"

"They tried, but he…he was too strong. And he had no mercy—not even for his own kind." Suddenly she broke off and a look of terror crossed her face as she stared over Picard's shoulder.

The officers turned to see that T'Pel had quietly entered sickbay and stood silently watching. The girl was frozen in place, clearly not expecting to see another Vulcan this soon after the horror of what had happened.

T'Pel averted her eyes, so as not to frighten the girl further. "I mean you no harm," she said. "But you must tell us more, so that we can ensure your family receives justice."

"The only justice for _him_ would be death," cried the girl. "He destroyed with only a thought, everyone around him. He even killed his own people! And when he was done he seemed to explode into millions of particles and to disappear. I hope that he is dead!"

"Can you describe this person you refer to?" said Crusher after a few moments.

The girl shot out her hand and pointed a trembling finger in T'Pel's direction. "He looked like her," she whispered.

"That is very logical," said T'Pel. "For he is my brother."

* * *

"Why the hell didn't you tell me Ra'Val was your brother, T'Pel?" Picard was livid. "Were you trying to protect him?"

"Captain, I only did what I believed was the most logical course of action. I did plan on revealing this truth to you, when necessary."

Picard placed his hands flat on the desk in Crusher's office. "And now that I have this information, what good is it to me? Do you know where Ra'Val is? Is he alive or is he dead?"

"I…believe that he is alive, Captain, in some form."

"What do you mean, in some form?"

"I have sensed his presence on this ship, but I do not know why."

Picard straightened up and glanced at Crusher in furious disbelief. She looked as though she was in shock. Picard struggled to keep his voice calm. "T'Pel, where is he?"

"I do not know, Jean-Luc." She looked into her old friend's eyes and saw distrust reflected back at her for the first time since she had known him.

Still looking at her, he slapped his communicator. "Picard to Chief of Security."

"Yar here, Captain," came the young woman's voice.

"Lt. Yar, I need you to mobilize your people and conduct a complete sweep of this ship. We are looking for a Vulcan male. Data, transmit Ra'Val's physical description to Yar. You must take extreme precaution and care, Lt. We are dealing with a very dangerous and powerful telepath. We now know that he is capable of killing with his mind. Keep me apprised of anything of note."

"Aye sir," said Yar.


End file.
